Liberation
by FlyMeAwayInYourTARDIS
Summary: Owen and Gwen find solace in each other when the stress of Torchwood gets to be too much. Shameless smut with an emotional twist. GwenxOwen. Moved from my old name, xtake-me-awayx


Gwen grabbed her jacket as she headed out, saying goodnight to Ianto in the tourist office. She stepped into the cool night air and headed to her car only to be stopped by Owen grabbing her wrist and pulling her flush against him.

"Hello, Gwen." He said breathily against her lips.

"Owen." She acknowledged.

"What's say you come back to my place tonight, eh?"

"I should really get home to Rhys," she said hesitantly.

"Is Rhys really gonna give you what you want, though?" He asked, rubbing against her.

"Oh, you know how to make an argument, Owen." Gwen said, pushing her hip against his crotch.

"And you know how to please a man," he said, placing his hand on her face, thumb caressing the corner of her mouth as he kissed her, mouths meshing in a heated dance.

Pulling apart, Gwen asked quietly, "Yours?" Her forehead pressed against Owen's.

"Let's go." Owen said, leading her to his car and quickly hopping in and starting it. During the short drive, both were having a difficult time keeping their hands to themselves. Hands down the fronts of pants, erratic steering caused by the former, giggling as they attempted to drive normally, and a scream from Gwen here and there as Owen nearly went off the road.

When they made it to his flat, clothing was quickly shed; tight t-shirts and belts nearly ripped off, two pairs of skinny jeans hit the floor and were shimmied out of, a black lacy bra unhooked and slid off pale shoulders, navy blue boxer-briefs slipped down slim legs.

Owen was pressed up against the large window, Gwen on her knees in front of him with his cock in her mouth. His hands were gripping her hair as he gently thrust his hips into her mouth. He let out soft moans and the occasional, "Oh, Gwen," but mostly he was quiet, simply panting up at his ceiling, mouth agape.

As she flicked her tongue across the head, his breath hitched and he managed out a breathy, "Up." When she didn't move, he tugged gently on her raven hair. "Up." He growled again.

Gwen rolled her eyes and stood up, taking a swig of wine from the glass on the coffee table and swishing it around in her mouth before swallowing.

"What, the great Owen Harper can't take a simple blow job?"

"Not when you do that." He said huskily, pulling her flush against him, her perky breasts pushed against his smooth chest.

"Are you that weak," she asked, a finger trailing down his chest, "Or am I that good?" her finger stopped just below his navel, teasing.

"Oh, you're just that good, Gwen Cooper."

"I know," she said, pushing herself up against him, her perfect hips pinning his to the glass.

"You'll be the death of me," Owen said against her lips before kissing her deeply and rolling so Gwen was pinned to the window.

"Now why don't we get you out of these?" he said, one hand delving into her black and purple lace panties, stroking her wetness. She nodded rapidly.

Removing his hand, he licked his finger slowly, savoring the taste of pure _Gwen_. He leaned into her ear and whispered, "So _good_," his voice sultry.

Owen was rewarded with a breathy, "Ahh!" from Gwen, her head resting back against the glass. "Touch me." She whispered.

Owen smirked and pushed the lace over her pale hips, helping her to step out of them. He kicked them away, leaning into her, one hand pushed against the glass next to her head, pressing his forehead to hers.

"What do you want?" He asked, pushing his hips into hers.

"_Touch me."_ She whined. She was so aroused and so neglected that it was on the brink of pain; she needed to feel him inside her, be it fingers or something better.

Owen ran his hand up and down her sides, over her curvaceous ass and back up to her breasts. He moved slowly, savoring the smoothness of her pale, perfect welsh skin. "Not like that." She said, tossing her head in frustration.

"Tell me what you want me to do," Owen said roughly.

"I want your fingers in my pussy." Gwen said quickly, head knocking against the glass, eyebrows furrowed in despair.

"All ya had to do was ask, sweet cheeks." Owen said, trailing his hand down over her clit and slipping a finger into her folds. Owen marveled at how wet she was, so slick and silky smooth, just dying to take him whole. Just feeling how ready she was aroused him even further, not to mention the whimpers he received in reward.

Gwen's hands reached for Owen's face, pulling him to her and kissing him, moaning into his lips. He added another finger and she felt her knees go weak, legs shaking. She fell forwards onto him, into his arms as he continued fucking her on his fingers, drawing an endless stream of moans from her delicious lips.

With three fingers inside her, Owen used the heel of his hand to rub against her clit. Gwen grabbed for his arms, desperate for something to hold onto as she jerked against him, crying his name. "Owen, I . . .I'm..."

He stopped all ministrations and pinned her wrists to the window behind her. "Not yet," he growled, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Please, Owen. I was so close." It had been so long since her last orgasm and he was just making it worse. She had been just seconds away from sweet release and the loss of contact was maddening.

"I know. But where's the fun in that for me? I mean, I do love to watch your face when you come, but I'd rather feel you come around me." As he said this, he moved his hips so the head of his prick rubbed against her swollen clit, giving her the friction she desired for a brief second before pulling away.

Gwen threw her head back, lifting her hips into his and grinding into his erection. "Please!" she cried.

"Alright. You asked for it." He said, grabbing a condom off the coffee table and tearing it open with his teeth.

"Would you like to do the honors?" he asked, offering her the torn square. She took it and removed the rubber, bending down to roll it down his cock eagerly, giving it a tug on the way back up.

Owen placed his hands on Gwen's shoulders. "Ready?" he asked.

"Have been for a while. Get on with it." She said, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. When he thrust in all at once, she moaned and jerked upwards, her hand catching his forearm, the other in his hair. As he began to fall into a rhythm, she warped a leg around his waist and allowed herself to be fucked, hard and dirty, into the window.

He pulled out and turned her around so her breasts pushed up against the glass, her naked form illuminated from behind for all of Cardiff to see. Her quick breaths fogged up the glass in front of her mouth as he rammed into her from behind, her hands splayed out across the cold pane as she looked out at the bay through hooded eyes.

As his thrusts became slightly more erratic, Owen reached a hand in front of Gwen to rub her clit, reveling in the gorgeously filthy moans falling from her lips.

He sucked and bit at her neck, careful not to leave too many marks and watched as her hands clenched against the surface in front of her, trying and failing to find purchase; anything to ground her in reality, something to hold onto as she rapidly approached the edge.

Owen groaned into her shoulder as he continued sliding in and out of her, reveling in the friction and her tight walls clenching around him, the jerking of her hips as he rubbed her swollen nub. This is what he lived for, this nearly painful pleasure coursing through him, making him feel so alive as it pooled in the pit of his stomach, the feeling of his balls tightening up, ready and so close to release. The brief moment as he came that he lost control, and it felt so good; not having a single care in the world save for this intense pleasure coursing through him, drowning him in bliss.

Gwen came around him, her hips jolting up against the window as she cried his name into the night, throwing her head back in complete and utter ecstasy.

Owen's breath quickened and he tilted his head back, letting everything go as he felt the white-hot warmth inundate his entire body, grunting Gwen's name as he came inside her.

Gwen slumped down on the window, only held up by Owen's body, on which gravity was suddenly having a severe effect. They both fell to the floor, and as they lay on the carpet, they shared in something so much more than the high brought on by sex. They shared in the emotional liberation as well. For the next few minutes, Rhys didn't matter, Torchwood didn't matter, the other person lying next to them didn't even matter, because right now, they were free of all physical and mental bonds to their world. All the stress of the last month melted away and as they say up, they started fresh, ready to take on whatever challenges the world threw their way.

And as the lay in Owen's bed, enveloped in the other's heat, they shared in a comfort and solace one can only find in another Torchwood member.

Every month or so, when the stresses of work became too much and it came time to let go again, the doctor and the police officer would come together for the mutual liberation.


End file.
